


The time we twist and turn.

by the_world_only_began_today



Series: The Untold Tales of Hermione Granger [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Rewrite, Cause Sirius deserved better damn it, Drarry, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Fremione - Freeform, Hogwarts, Humour, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Pre-Relationship, What Happened if Hermione was in Charge, plot heavy, this series is basically, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-06-22 17:57:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15587502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_world_only_began_today/pseuds/the_world_only_began_today
Summary: It was simply too much. Hermione did not only have a bad week. No, due to the Timeturner that dangled loosely around her neck she had experienced this terrible week already twice.[The first part of me rewriting the canon, starting from the second half of Prisoner of Azkaban.  Hermione is the main character and in charge, as she should be. Slow build-up for later Fred/Hermione, Harry/Draco and Sirius/Remus.]





	1. Homework and Headaches

It was simply too much. Hermione did not only have a bad week. No, due to the Timeturner that dangled loosely around her neck she had experienced this terrible week already twice. After the Arithmancy essay there had been a moon-chart for Astronomy, Buckbeak’s trial, and now she was grappling with six-hundred and eight tightly printed pages of _Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles_.

She had even brought it to the Gryffindor Ravenclaw match in a desperate attempt to finally get through the Chapter “The Homely Body: Taking off shoes and washing hands”. But her head, already heavy from severe lack of sleep, had started swimming from the constant sound of yells and shrieks around her. While it certainly had been exhilarating watching Harry perform a patronus on Malfoy and catch the snitch she now needed to catch up on a lot of reading.

She had been moderately successful in blocking out the sound of an entire common room in uproar until Harry came to talk to her: “Did you even come to the match?”

“Of course I did.”

It was a relief talking to Harry again after the last two weeks of them ignoring each other. But it did not make her forget that she had been right in informing Professor McGonagall of the Firebolt.

“And I’m very glad we won and I think you did really well, but I need to read this by Monday.”

“Come on, Hermione, come and have some food.”

Harry’s pleading look was underlined by Hermione’s stomach grumbling, reminding her that her last meal had been breakfast this morning. But she needed to finish this chapter now. She could not bear to further prolong reading about Muggles clipping their toenails.

“I can’t, Harry, I’ve still got 422 pages to read. Anyway… _he_ doesn’t want me to join in.”

A wave of bitterness washed over her as she looked at Ron who shot her a nasty look and said:

“If Scabbers hadn’t just been eaten, he could have had some of these fudge flies.”

And that was it. Hermione had been dealing with a lot for over four months of school time now, but now it was too much. She snapped the book shut and grabbed her quill and parchment. It would be another night of lying in her four-poster with her books and quietly crying into Crookshanks’ fur. Head ducked low so no one saw her red eyes, she stormed towards the staircase leading up to the girl’s dormitories.

“Ooof”, was the sound she heard when she collided full on with somebody, followed by the clinks of several bottles tumbling to the floor.

“Careful where you’re going”, Fred Weasley crouched down to pick up the empty Butterbeer bottles he had been juggling with. Looking up from the ground into her face, he halted.

“Granger, everything alright?”

Hermione exhaled, tried to say something but her voice did not go past the big lump in her throat. She stepped around the bottles and sped up the staircase.

||

It did not turn out to be another night of lying in her four-poster. She startled up from her book when a scream cut through the silence. The other girls woke up as well and they hastened into the common room. Sirius Black had nearly stabbed Ron. Hermione spent the rest of the night neither shutting an eye, nor even being able to read any more. She was terrified and restless, unable to exchange a word with Ron who had been taken aside by Professor McGonagall.

Now, Hermione was sitting at the breakfast table, forcing down some porridge. She desperately wanted to make up with Harry and Ron but could not detect either at the Gryffindor table. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil next to her discussed in hushed voices whether a prophecy they had heard from Professor Trelawney the day before could have possibly been predicting Black’s appearance.

“She said a ‘dark stranger’- dark, 'Black', come on, Parvati, the crystal never lies.”

Hermione did not even have the energy or nerves to scoff at that. Two second years- friends of Ginny’s- who had been eating across from Hermione got up and the Weasley twins slid into their spot instead.

“Morning.”

“How’s Ron?” Hermione burst out.

“He’s alright”, George shrugged. “Still a bit in shock, who can blame him. But he’s also kind of milking it.”

Fred passed his brother the orange juice tumbler, then halted. “Speaking of shock, Hermione, are you alright?”

Hermione felt a whole lot of emotions threatening to whirl up again, so she nodded curtly. “I’m fine.”

And she slung her bag over her shoulder and left the Great Hall.

||

“No sugar, right?” Hagrid smiled at her, kindly, when he placed a teacup the size of a soup terrine in front of her.

“No thank you.” Hermione tried to smile back.

Hagrid had listened quietly when she had told him the events of yesterday night. He gave her an unusually tender embrace when she started crying once more.

“Ron didn’t get hurt. And don’t you blame yourself for anything. He’ll get over himself eventually. It’s sad to lose a pet. But it’s worse to lose a friend.”

Buckbeak clicked with his beak from the corner of the hut. Hagrid suddenly looked guilty: “You know you are not a pet, Beaky, you know that. Oh, don’t give me that look.”

Glad to change the topic, Hermione rummaged in her bag.

“By the way, Hagrid, I have double-checked the sources on that Hippogriff hearing in 1872… See, if you look at that section…”

||

The sun shone brightly the next day and bathed the grounds in crisp February-tinged light. The portraits scuttled around to find a spot in a picture that was hit by sunlight, cramming together to “get back that rosy tint of aquarelle”, as Hermione heard Violet, a tiny friend of the Fat Lady, say.

Instead of prowling around the common room, Crookshanks lay in a sunny spot on the window-sill next to her and purred placidly. One hand absentmindedly buried in his fur, Hermione was examining the Old Runes table in front of her, furrowing her brows. Either, that was a dodgy “thorn” rune, or maybe that word was a remnant of what Hermione had read about the Godric’s Hollow dialect… she made a note of asking Professor Ruthwell about it.

Suddenly, she heard a thump in front of her and the screech of someone pulling back another chair. When she looked up, she saw Fred Weasley with a grin and a box of custard creams he had placed on her copy of _Runes or Riddles?_.

“What do you want?” She asked, immediately suspicious.

“Nothing, except be your saviour.” She looked unimpressed as he winked. “Come on Hermione, you seem so incredibly busy with school stuff, even Percy looks like a dropout next to you.”

Percy who sat two armchairs away, humphed scandalised: “I do not- Head Boy duty is a _very_ important, strenuous-“ 

“Oh, shut up, Perce.” Fred rolled his eyes and opened the biscuit tin. “Have a break, have a biscuit.”

Hermione examined the custard cream closely, then popped it into her mouth. It tasted fine, but suddenly she felt a strange sensation in her nose, as if it was pulled forward, and her arms started itching. When she looked down, she saw that they were covered in canary yellow feathers. Her nose, as she could detect when she turned crosseyed, had turned into a short beak. Fred’s eyes crinkled up with laughter while he scrutinized her.

“Not a bad result”, he said, reaching to feel the feathers on her arm. Hermione indignantly swatted his hand away. Crookshanks turned and looked mildly interested at the feathers.

“You will turn me back immediately or I swear to-“

Fred hastily fumbled for his wand behind his left ear and muttered: “Reversio.” The feathers slowly trundled to the ground and Hermione could breathe normally again.

“What was that?”

“Canary Cream”, Fred shrugged. “We are still working on it, when it’s ready it’s supposed to turn you completely into a bird. Only for a minute though”, he added as he saw Hermione’s eyes narrowing.

“I thought it might distract you a little.” He shrugged his shoulders.

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest: “How does it work?”

“Oh, um, well, we tried it with a tiny bit of Polyjuice Potion first, but you are not supposed to use that for animal transformations for a reason.”

He shuddered and Hermione had a flashback to her time in the hospital wing, halfway stuck to transforming into Millicent Bullstrode’s cat “Professor Tiddles”. The name had made it somehow even more humiliating.

“Apart from it being a legally restricted potion.”

Fred lifted one eyebrow: “May I remind you that last year, _you_ -“

Hermione’s cheeks reddened. “So- what did you do then?”

Fred’s grin widened.

||

“I wish I could go to Hogsmeade as well”, Ginny sighed enviously as she saw the group of Gryffindors huddled up around the notice board. “I’m dying for some chocolate- Hermione, do you mind bringing me some?”

She rummaged in her cloak for a few sickles. “ _Honeyduke’s_ Scrumptuous Caramel Delight, please.”

“Of course”, Hermione smiled but refused the sickles. “It’s on me, because you cracked that Ferraverto Charm in Transfiguration today.”

Ginny fondly rolled her eyes. “Thanks.”

“Oi, Ginny, are you in for a round of Gobstones?”

“One second, Josh.” She waved her goodbye and Hermione dropped her bag on an empty table next to the notice board.

As she unpacked her books, she realised that Harry and Ron stood in front of her. She unscrewed the lid of her ink bottle but stopped when she heard Ron mutter: “Hogsmeade next weekend, what do you reckon?”

“Well, Filch hasn’t done anything about the passage into _Honeyduke’s_.”

And that went too far. Harry couldn’t possibly be so stupid to go to Hogsmeade, now that Black had managed to break into their dormitory? Decidedly, she cleared some of the books in front of her and hissed: “Harry!”

Harry jumped a little bit and turned around.

“Harry, if you go into Hogsmeade again, I’ll tell Professor McGonagall about that map.”

“Can you hear someone talking, Harry?” Ron said, viciously.

“Ron, how can you let him go with you, after what Sirius Black nearly did to you? I mean it, I’ll tell!”

“So now, you’re trying to get Harry expelled”, Ron turned to her, furiously. “Haven’t you done enough damage this year?”

Her chest stung at these words. Hermione had been responsible for Harry’s Firebolt being confiscated and Crookshanks had chased after Scabbersquite a bit, but how was she to blame when all she had wanted was to keep her friends safe and to finally have her own pet?

As if summoned by her thoughts (as Hermione suspected was the case with Mrs Norris), Crookshanks prowled around the table leg and jumped into her lap. She knew it was best to keep him away from Ron. Otherwise, Crookshanks would end up with a few hearty kicks in his direction and Ron with some scratches over his face. When she had put down the cat on her bed and returned to her table, both Ron and Harry were gone.

||

She did not tell Professor McGonagall. She was too tired of all the fighting between them. When she woke up Saturday morning, she pondered what to do with the day. Hogsmeade sounded tempting, but there was still so much work to do. She decided to work for a few hours on that essay on vampires for Defence against the Dark Arts. She would use the Timeturner to go to Hogsmeade after she was finished.

After she had taken her afternoon tea in the Great Hall, she marched up a hallway. Looking left and right, she moved away a tapestry of Bilbur, the Boarheaded Baron. She pulled out the time turner from under her cloak. Just as she went to turn it back, a loud “Ohhhh” made her jump backwards and bump her head against the stone wall. She hastily tried to shove the golden chain out of sight but-

“Bloody hell, you have a Timeturner! That explains so much!”

Fred Weasley looked at her, eyes wide open and brimming with wild excitement.

“Fred”, Hermione hissed and rubbed the back of her head, “what on earth are you doing in here?”

“Hiding from Filch, but much more importantly, where did you get _that_ from?”

Hermione sighed, resignedly. “Special permission from the Ministry, so I could take all of my classes. Please don’t tell anyone”, she added, pleadingly.

Fred nodded, still wide eyed. “Wicked. But are you telling me that you got a bloody Timeturner and only used it for studying?”

Hermione’s cheeks were burning as Fred laughed: “Of course you would.”

“Well”, Hermione stuck up her chin defiantly, “now I’m actually using it to go to Hogsmeade. I promised your sister I’d bring her some chocolate.”

“Let me come with you”, Fred immediately pleaded.

“No chance.”

“Please Hermione, what harm could it do?”

“You are really asking that?” She scoffed. “What about, maybe, you being seen by yourself and wondering what in Merlin’s name is going on?”

Fred dismissively tossed his hand. “I slept in, only woke up at noon. That’s why I didn’t go to Hogsmeade, I simply missed it.”

“Well, what about anybody else from your dormitory seeing you?”

“What should they think? ‘Fred woke up early to go to Hogsmeade? That’s super dodgy!’ Actually, come to think of it”, he paused, “they probably would find that a bit dodgy. I’m only joking”, he added, hastily. “Literally no one would notice. And with George, I could just tell him. We’ve stopped asking too many questions years ago.”

“Probably for the best,” Hermione muttered.

“Why should I not come with you, Hermione?” Fred asked, with a smile he probably thought looked endearing. “Tell you, it might actually be nice- I get to travel back in time and you don’t have to go to Hogsmeade by yourself. Heard Ron throwing his little hissy-fit yesterday.”

 He tutted. Hermione ducked her head.

“I don’t need your pity, Fred. I’m just fine on my own.”

And with that, she turned to leave, but Fred caught her elbow.

“I’m sorry, Granger, really. I didn't mean it like that. But, you know, it could be fun.”

She halted. Maybe it would be. Hermione was sick of being alone all the time. She liked to spend a lot of time by herself, yes, but by choice, not by force.

“Okay.” She said.

“Please, I will- okay?”

“Yes, alright. Come here before I change my mind.”

And with a surprised laugh, Fred stepped closer to her, fascinated by the filigree clockwork dangling on the golden chain.


	2. A Trip to Hogsmeade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Now, do you really think this is worth it? Following my pet cat and a stray dog?”
> 
> She could not speak any further when she felt a dirty hand on her mouth.
> 
> “Please don’t scream”, someone murmured in her ear. When she turned around, she saw that none other than Sirius Black was standing behind her.

Colours and sounds rushed by as they were pulled backwards and Fred laughed hysterically.

“This is ridiculous!”

When they came to themselves again, they were still behind the tapestry, out of breath as if they had just run a marathon.

“I turned it back eight times, which means it’s now half past eight. We should collect our robes and permission slips and then we can head out.”

They walked up to the seventh floor, but when the Fat Lady came in sight, Hermione held Fred back.

“You can’t just waltz into your dormitory. You are lying there, asleep.”

Fred grinned, “Hermione, dearest, that won’t be a problem.”

They entered the common room (“Facinus audax”) and Hermione went up to her dormitory, put on her winter cloak and grabbed her permission slip. When she came back down, Fred leaned against an armchair, holding his cloak and a piece of parchment in his hand.

“How did you do that?” Hermione said, impressed against her own will.

“A magician never tells his secret.”

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Just a simple Accio charm”, Fred admitted. “By the way, how come you didn’t come across yourself up there?”

“Because my past self has already been studying in the library for roughly one and a half hours.”

“Crikey”, Fred muttered and they climbed back through the portrait hole.

||

They walked down the snowy slope leading to the Main Gate, feeling thrilled. Filch had controlled them and not suspected anything. They walked past the train station, keeping their distance from other groups so as not to raise any suspicions. Hermione wondered what the other people would think. A Weasley twin alone was a rare sight, especially together with the bookish third year friend of Harry Potter. Hopefully no one noticed. She shot Fred a quick glance. Hermione had barely talked to him alone before. Suddenly, she felt uneasy. It would certainly be a different trip than the last one with Harry and Ron.

“So… what do you want to do?” Fred asked, eyes glistening with excitement. “This is so strange! We are from the future but no one knows.”

Hermione had to smile against her will. She had lost the excitement for time travelling quite a long time ago, constantly apprehensive of someone catching her or missing a class. It was refreshing to see Fred feel how she had felt at the beginning of the school year. Eager to explore, invincible, and a tiny bit like a rebel.

“We could go to _Honeyduke’s_. I did promise it to Ginny.”

So they walked through the narrow, winding streets up until they saw the golden, sugary windows of the sweetshop. Hermione bought one bar of _Honeyduke’s_ Scrumptuous Caramel Delight and one Peppermint Golden Glint; it was shaped like a gold ingot and filled with delicious mint cream. Fred on the other hand stocked up on pepper imps and some Chocolate Frogs.

“They’ve got a special edition with the national squads. It’s the Quidditch World Cup this summer”, he explained as Hermione looked at him questioningly.

“I need to get some more ink”, Hermione said and so they set off to _Dervish and Banges_.

“We should really invent some self-correcting quills”, Fred muttered as he examined a beautiful peacock feather in the display. “George is terrible at spelling, don’t know why.”

 “Have you ever checked him for dyslexia?” Hermione asked.

“What’s that?” Fred furrowed his brows.

“It’s when you naturally have problems with reading and spelling.”

Fred pondered. “George says he takes ages to read stuff because he can’t focus on it.”

“You know what, I will write home and ask my parents to look up some books on it. Maybe there’s something George could do about it.”

Fred looked taken aback.

“Thanks, Granger, that’s-“ He stopped. “That’d be great.”

||

When they left the shop, they didn’t really know what to do. It was around ten o’clock now, so they still had six hours until they needed to be back in the castle in the secret passageway. They wandered around the snowy streets. When they passed _Zonko’s_ , Ron just left the shop and stared, somewhat disbelieving at Hermione and Fred, walking around together. Hermione only turned up her nose and strode past him.

“Look, there’s Crookshanks”, Fred said suddenly, pointing up the road where a large ginger cat was stalking through the snow.

Hermione scrunched up her nose: “That’s strange. Crookshanks hates snow.”

And he did look particularly disgruntled, but determinedly kept walking. They followed him up the road, and there, panting loudly, stood a shaggy, black dog.

Fred wrinkled his forehead. “I’ve seen this dog on the grounds, even at our Quidditch matches, but it belongs to no one. Not even Hagrid knows where it’s suddenly come from.”

Crookshanks and the giant dog walked so closely together that their fur brushed against each other, fire-red merging with pitch black.

“They seem well-acquainted”, Fred muttered and they followed the odd pair in front of them which walked along the road that led out of Hogsmeade and up to the mountain that lay beyond it.

They saw the cat and the dog, often only in glimpses, as they walked around the odd cottage or small groups of trees. Hogwarts castle looked down on them from their right; occasionally a window glinted lazily in the afternoon sun. Finally, they came past a stile, now completely out of the village. Hermione halted for a second.

“Now, do you really think this is worth it? Following my pet cat and a stray dog?”

She could not speak any further when she felt a dirty hand on her mouth.

“Please don’t scream”, someone murmured in her ear. When she turned around, she saw that none other than Sirius Black was standing behind her.

||

“Expelliarmus!” Fred bellowed and Hermione’s wand that Black must have grabbed from her cloak flew into his hand. She mustered all her strength, kicked Black against the shin and ran to Fred. He handed her back her wand while having his own firmly fixed on Black that was now bent over, rubbing his shin. Hermione gripped her wand as tightly as she could. Thousands of curses and jinxes rushed through her head, but she stood there, shell shocked and unable to move.

“Good kick, girl.” Black's voice sounded like gravel and made Hermione’s hair stand on end.

“Stay the hell away from us”, Fred hissed, his wand in the same attacking position as Hermione.

But like her, he stood fixed on the spot, as if Black’s eyes were hypnotic. Suddenly, all newspaper articles Hermione had ever read about Black shot up into her mind- the warnings and emergency contacts, the head money and the wanted posters that glared down from every front page. But much more presently than that, the conversation they had overheard in the Three Broomsticks rang shrilly in her ears: _When a wizard goes over ter the dark side, there’s nothin’ and no one that matters to ‘em any more_ … In front of her stood the man who had betrayed her best friend’s parents to Voldemort.

“You’re an animagus, that’s how you managed to break out of Azkaban and into Hogwarts.”

Fred said, and it was true, Crookshanks was sitting there, next to Black, just as he had been sitting next to the black dog.

“What do you want from us?” Hermione asked. Her muscles tensed up so tight it hurt.

“I want your rat, boy.”

“What? I have no rat.”

“Liar, I looked for it when I broke into your dormitory.”

Fred looked particularly pale beneath his freckles.

“You mean my brother Ron, who you nearly _stabbed_?”

Hermione could see how his wand quivered in his hand. She wanted to reach out and hold Fred back. Black had slaughtered his own friend and a dozen of innocent bystanders. Hermione was absolutely positive that this man- this maniac- in front of them did not need a wand to end somebody’s life.

“I didn’t go for your brother. I went for the rat.”

Crookshanks mewed at that word. What was his part in this whole matter? Hermione felt a strong sense of betrayal when she saw her cat sidle up more closely to Black.

“What, Scabbers? You nearly killed my brother for his useless pet rat?” Fred surged forward and roughly shoved Black to the ground.

Torn between letting him knock Black out and pulling Fred back Hermione laid a warning hand on his back.

“Useless, is he?” Sirius Black cackled, wiping his hands on his ragged cloak, “not much has changed since school, then.”

“Vincula.” Hermione muttered and two ropes slithered from her wand like snakes and wound themselves around Black’s body.

“What are you talking about?” She said, sharply, while she tugged Fred back by his wrist. Sirius Black sighed. It made him look almost human.

“That rat is Peter Pettigrew.”

“You killed Pettigrew.” Hermione said, sharply. Fudge’s voice spoke up in her mind: _And_ _Black standing there laughing, with what was left of Pettigrew in front of him_...

“I did not. Wish I had.”

Hermione tasted bile in her mouth. She looked at Black who looked absolutely emotionless. It suddenly shot through her head that he was the one who had made Harry an orphan. Hermione could suddenly understand why Harry wanted to go after him.

“Pettigrew confronted you because you killed Harry’s parents!”

Black’s head snapped up as if he had been whipped in the face. “I did not.”

“And now you are coming for Harry. But you will never get to him. I will call Dumbledore and the dementors and-“

“Girl, please, by all means, call Dumbledore. But the dementors…”

In _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self Protection_ , Hermione had seen an illustration of an Inferius. This was exactly how Black looked at this moment.

“Dumbledore can do you much more harm than a dementor can, you fool.” Fred said, quietly. He stared at Black with an expression of absolute loathing.

“Yes”, Black said, “yes, but Dumbledore also has a conscience unlike dementors.”

There was a moment of silence between them. Hermione had to think of Dumbledore saying _Innocent until proven guilty_. But back then, it had been about a petrified cat, now they were talking to a fugitive mass-murderer.

A lone snowflake trundled slowly to the ground. Crookshank’s tail twitched.

“I beg you, I can prove that I am innocent. Give me Veritaserum, perform leglimency on me or bring me a Pensieve. I will demonstrate it to you. But we also need to find that rat. He can’t get away again.”

There was a painful urgency in his voice.

“It’s my fault that Lily and James are dead because I convinced them to make Peter their Secret Keeper. And he ratted them out to Voldemort, and when he died after murdering them, Peter just slipped away again. Staged the confrontation with me perfectly, even cut off his own finger.”

Hermione remembered Ron telling them Pettigrew’s largest remaining piece had been his finger. Black’s face looked ugly with disgust.

“And now, he’s here.”

“You are absolutely bonkers.” Fred said slowly, “Scabbers has been in our family for ages, Percy-“

“Twelve years?”

Fred halted, shocked. “How do you-?”

“Twelve years ago I was brought to Askaban.” And he was an empty shell again, a few connected bones held together by Hermione’s fetters.

“How did you survive?” She whispered.

“I knew I was innocent. Wasn’t a happy thought. They took everything. But not that.”

Her chest suddenly hurt. She didn’t know whether he was telling them the truth. But twelve years surrounded by dementors…

“Bring me to Dumbledore, and I will demonstrate that I am telling the truth.”

“Before we do anything”, Hermione said. “We want some proof.”

“I don’t know how I can do that without a Pensieve or Veritaserum… I doubt you are able to do Leglimency?”

“Then we can’t help you”, Fred said, coldly.

Black pressed his fingers into his eyesockets. “I would never- I would never betray my friends.” His voice broke. “I would have died for any of them, but James, James especially. When I ran away from my family, they took me in. Do you think I could kill him? My brother?”

He looked so broken that Hermione had to look away.

“Well, you nearly killed mine.” Fred said, and his voice was shaking.

“I did not, I was only going after the rat.”

He seemed to rack his mind feverishly. Suddenly, his head snapped up: “The map! Do you have the Marauder’s map?”

Fred’s mouth dropped open: “How do you know the Marauder’s map?”

“I helped write it. I am Padfoot. You know… because I’m a dog. Peter was Wormtail. James Prongs, Remus Moony.”

That last name rang a bell in Hermione’s head, but she could not place it. Fred stared at Black with utter astonishment. “You are joking. You can’t be-“

“It doesn’t matter right now, does it? Do you have that map? Peter will be seen on it. He’s still on the grounds, hiding somewhere, I just know it.”

Fred shook his head: “We gave it to Harry, so he could go to Hogsmeade.”

“Harry?” The look in his eyes made Hermione’s stomach plummet.

“Maybe, I could Accio it here…” Fred said hesitantly and gave Hermione a questioning look. She nodded.

“Alright. Accio Marauder’s map!”

Some seconds passed by where nothing happened. Black looked tenser each moment. Suddenly, a faint whirring noise could be heard and the map flapped towards them like a strangely shaped bird. Fred plucked it out of the air and placed the tip of his wand on it.

“I solemnly swear I am up to no good.”

Hermione saw that Black muttered the words along under his breath. He had certainly kept that oath. Fred’s eyes feverishly flitted across the map, and then he exhaled sharply.

“Peter Pettigrew. There he is, in the pumpkin patch behind Hagrid’s hut.”

Hermione scrambled over to see the tiny dot.

“There you have it, he’s alive. Even though I would have killed him, after what he’d done. He broke the Fidelius Charm and then turned himself into a martyr.” Black spit on the ground. “And he’s lived as a rat in your family ever since, like a parasite.”

Fred lowered the map, looking profoundly disturbed.

“Ron’s _cuddled_ with him, let him sleep in his bed.”

“We need to catch him.”

“We need to tell Dumbledore.” Hermione remarked and Fred nodded.  

“Okay, we’ll take you to him. But you’ll of course need to transform into a dog so you can pass the dementors. And we will chain you.”

Black nodded.

“That’s probably more than I can ask for.”

||

They briskly walked up the path along the greenhouses to get to Dumbledore’s office as fast as possible. They had been in absolute panic when they crossed the dementors to enter the grounds, but they had made no sign of recognition towards the dog. Professor Sprout came out of Greenhouse Number Seven, taking off gloves that went over her elbows.

“Ah, Miss Granger, Mr Weasley, that’s a lovely dog you’ve got there but need I remind you that rules clearly state either an owl, a cat or a toad as a pet?”

“Right”, Fred said, “no worries, Professor Sprout, this is just a... stray we found in Hogsmeade and we thought we could give him some food.”

Professor Sprout crouched down to pet a convicted mass-murderer behind his ears.

“You’re a good boy, aren’t you? You know, in my childhood, we had a dog just like this, Gertie…”

“I am so sorry, Professor”, Hermione interrupted, “but we really need to see Professor Dumbledore.”

“Professor Dumbledore?” Professor Sprout clumsily got up again. “I’m afraid you won’t be getting anywhere with that, my dears.”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s in London, debating with the Minister of Magic whether it will be necessary to keep the dementors stationed around the school.”

The dog twitched.

“When will he be back?”

“I think by tomorrow evening. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“No thank you, Professor Sprout.”

“Alright, then I will go back to my Devil’s Snare. And don’t forget your homework on our Fanged Geranium project, Mr Weasley.”

She pointed her abnormally large glove at him.

“I won’t, Professor.”

They hastily moved on.

“I had totally forgotten about that.” Fred admitted and Hermione, because of the absurdity of the entire situation, had to giggle hysterically.

||

In a corner outside of the main building, view blocked by some bushes, Sirius Black transformed back into his human form.

“We will have to wait until tomorrow then.”

“Where will you stay?” Hermione asked.

“Whomping Willow.”

“What?”

“There’s a hidden passageway underneath, isn’t there?” Fred asked interestedly.

“Yes. Leads to the Shrieking Shack. I will stay there. If you… if you could maybe leave some food near the Willow, I’d be very grateful. Haven’t had a proper meal in over a decade.”

Fred nodded briskly. “One more thing, Black. If it turns out you are lying or you do anything else until tomorrow, anything, break into the castle, do any harm to a student, Hermione and I will tell your little animagus secret. And then the dementors will know what to look out for in their search for you.”

“I will hold my end of the deal. I have no interest whatsoever in hurting any student, believe me. Just, please, some food.”

“And leave Pettigrew for now. It will be best if we catch him when Dumbledore is here”, Hermione said.

Black looked conflicted over that, but finally he nodded slowly. “I won’t do anything.”

Fred decidedly stashed the map inside his cloak when he saw how Black’s eyes flitted to it. “We have your word, and if not…”

Black nodded one last time and one second later, a black dog ran away in the direction of the Whomping Willow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies, 
> 
> long time no see. If you enjoyed reading this, I would be really grateful if you left a comment or kudo. 
> 
> All the best, 
> 
> Lucy


	3. Sausages and Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear Miss Hermione Jean Granger,
> 
> You have been invited by the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures to appear as witness before the Wizengamot on Wednesday, the 24th of February 1994.  
> The case under discussion concerns the criminal incapacity and penalty of the hippogriff “Buckbeak”. Mr Rubeus Hagrid, owner of the appellant, has called upon you as a witness.

They made it to the tapestry of Bilbur, the Boarheaded Baron, exactly at sharp four. They spied through a small slit until their other selves had vanished back through time and then stood there, in the dark passageway for a couple of minutes, eyes closed and breathing deeply.

“Did all of this really happen?” Fred finally asked. “And to think I only wanted to know what timetravelling felt like.”

“How do we get food though?” She wondered. Dinner would not be for another three hours.

“Follow me,” Fred said and they walked down the large staircase to the main floor where they crossed Filch.

“You-" The caretaker accusingly raised a bony finger against Fred.“You threw a dung bomb into Dungeon Number Five!”

“I certainly did not,” Fred said with an angelic expression. “Just ask Miss Granger here, she can vouch for me, spent the last couple of hours with her.”

He looked at her and she nodded. “That’s true, Mr Filch.”

Filch scoffed and shuffled away, spotting some fourth year Ravenclaws not wiping their shoes on the way in.

“I didn’t lie, technically,” Fred whispered. “I did spend the last couple of hours with you. Now, before the Timeturner, that’s another matter entirely.”

Hermione rolled her eyes but she could not prevent the twitching of her lips. They walked down another stair case and Hermione narrowed her eyes: “You don’t seriously want to go back to that dungeon, do you?”

Fred laughed. “Not at all, trust me. Quite the awful smell there at the moment.”

They went through a door and suddenly found themselves in a well-lit, broad corridor hung with an enormous amount of pictures. There was one next to Hermione’s head of a red-faced knight surrounded by entire mountains of heaped grapes which he was shoving in his mouth. Hermione would have liked to tell him to close his mouth when chewing.

“That’s the Fat Friar over there.” Fred nodded to a picture of a group of jolly looking monks busy with roasting what looked like a small sized dragon.

“Good day, Mr Weasley,” the Fat Friar roared over the noise of the sizzling fire. “Do eat some rice pudding for me, I have heard it is tonight’s afters.”

“Will do, my good man, will do.” Fred tipped an imaginary hat and they walked on. Hermione looked around. There was no door or passageway.

“Stop,” Fred told her when they stood in front of a large still life picture of an overflowing fruit-bowl. He leaned forward and tickled the green pear lying at the very front. It started giggling and squirming and transformed into a door knob.

“Welcome to the kitchen,” Fred said and opened the door. “After you.”

They stepped into a large vault with high ceilings which stretched so long Hermione could not see the end of it. There were four wooden tables; they had to be exactly under the Great Hall. Several large fires were crackling as spiritedly as the one on the monks’ picture. Stepping further into the room, Hermione pondered: “Who does all the work?”

“House-elves,” Fred answered. As on cue, they were suddenly surrounded by numberless tiny creatures. They greeted Fred with squeaky voices and offered them tea and carrot cake.

“Thank you so much,” Hermione said, taken aback and the house-elves closest to her sent her a blinding smile.

“Could you pack us a care-package for a friend of ours? He certainly will miss dinner tonight,” Fred said and immediately, a group of elves scuttled away, returning a few minutes later with a basket almost as large as Hermione’s school trunk, filled to the brim with sausages, pies and apples.

“Will that suffice, Sir?” A particularly tiny elf piped.

“That’s great." Fred staggered under the enormous weight of the basket. 

“Anything else we can serve you with?”

“No, that’s all.”

They got up again and when they exited through the picture frame, all of the elves bowed deeply to them.

“Aren’t they just adorable?” Fred asked, heaving the basket up on his arm.

“Harry told us about a house-elf he met last year. He was called Dobby and he was actually freed.”

“Huh”, Fred said. “What did that poor bugger do to get kicked out?”

“Oh no, he wanted to go. Apparently they really mistreated him and they didn’t even pay him.”

“House-elves aren’t paid, Hermione.” They walked up the marble steps to the Great Hall. “They just like to do the work.”

Hermione scrunched up her nose. “That sounds unrealistic.”

“The house-elves here aren’t paid, I bet. They’d think it’s a disgrace.”

“So, they are just here, doing all the work without getting money or even acknowledgement?”

Fred shrugged his shoulders, as far as it was possible with the basket in his arms. “That’s how it is.”

“Well, it hardly sounds fair. I will read up on it,” Hermione said.

Fred opened his mouth and looked like he wanted to argue, then shut his mouth again. “You do that.”

||

They walked over the snowy lawn that led down to the Whomping Willow. He dropped the basket with such a loud “thump” that a few birds fluttered from the surrounding trees. Fred cautiously stepped closer to the Willow, but it quivered threateningly, and he hastily retreated.

“Shall we wait a little bit? Otherwise, Fang might fall upon the sausages.”

“Sure.”

They waited, in silence, and Hermione watched some grey smoke drifting upwards out of Hagrid’s chimney, down below them. Three figures appeared on the road from Hogsmeade and when they got a little closer, Hermione could detect Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy had a piece of parchment in his hand and they were talking gleefully. The Slytherins walked up towards them and Malfoy noticed the massive basket in front of them.

“What’s that, Weasley?” He sneered. “Food you’ve stolen for your family?”

Fred gripped his wand: “Shut up your dirty gob, Malfoy, or I will for you.”

Malfoy seemed taken back a little. He certainly had thought Fred to be Ron. “And you, Granger, heard the news?”

Hermione looked at him, suspiciously.

“They will kill that ugly feathered beast. That giant oaf is probably down there, blubbering. Maybe he’ll go with him, Weasley, then your family could move into his hut.”

Fred raised his wand, but Hermione was faster. She made three quick strides forward and then- smack!- hit Malfoy straight in the face.

“You disgusting cockroach, you foul- haven’t you done enough damage already?”

It felt good hurling Ron’s hurtful words at someone else. Someone tried to pull her back, but she tore herself away to throw another punch at Malfoy. Malfoy, holding his nose, hurried several steps back.

When Hermione went after him, he hissed: “Come on, let’s go.”

And the three of them vanished in the castle’s direction.

“Miss Granger”, a sharp voice came from below. Apparently, Professor McGonagall had left Hogsmeade shortly after Malfoy and his friends.“How dare you hit another student in the face.”

Hermione hung her head low, shame flooding over her.

“Thirty points from Gryffindor,” Professor McGonagall said, curtly. “And detention on Tuesday, six o’clock, down in the Transfiguration class room. I don’t want to hear it”, she directed sternly over Hermione’s head, turned around and stalked up to the castle as well.

Hermione stared at the ground, shame and disappointment twisting her stomach. How could she lose control so very easily? She had just cost Gryffindor thirty points.

“Hey, alright, Granger?”

She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up into Fred’s face where two emotions seemed to wrestle each other. At the end, a big grin won.

“That was _wicked_ , the way you just-“ He threw a punch in the air, grinning. Hermione looked at her feet.

“So you lost some house-points, but so what? You'll have earned them back by Monday's first lesson.”

They turned around when they heard the light tapping of paws in the snow behind them and Sirius, the dog, came up to them, barking excitedly and whacking around his tail. Diving into the basket, he devoured some sausages and an entire pie. Panting heavily, he looked at them for a second. Then he ran to a knotty root sticking out of the ground and pressed it. The Willow froze in midsway, as if someone had taken a Muggle photograph of it in a storm. The dog dragged the basket down with him, disappearing beneath the roots of the tree.

“And for what it’s worth”, Fred said, patting Hermione's shoulder. “Punching Malfoy straight in the nose just earned you some newfound respect from me.”  

|| 

When Hermione came back to the dormitory, there were two letters waiting for her. The first one was from Hagrid; it was stained in tears.

 

> Dear Hermione,
> 
> We lost. I’m allowed to bring him back to Hogwarts. Execution date to be fixed. Beaky has enjoyed London. I won’t forget all the help you gave us.
> 
> Hagrid

 

The second one was in a heavy envelope with the Ministry’s stamp on it.

 

 

> Official decree by the Ministry of Magic
> 
> Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures
> 
>                                                                                                                       London, 20th February 1994
> 
> Dear Miss Hermione Jean Granger,
> 
> You have been invited by the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures to appear as witness before the Wizengamot on Wednesday, the 24th of February 1994.
> 
> The case under discussion concerns the criminal incapacity and penalty of the hippogriff “Buckbeak”. Mr Rubeus Hagrid, owner of the appellant, has called upon you as a witness.
> 
> Please be present on Wednesday, the 24th of February at eleven o’clock in Courtroom No. XIVII. Send us an owl and give reason might there be an inability to attend.
> 
> Kind regards,
> 
> Geraldine Riverbanks
> 
> Head of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures

 

Hermione shakily breathed out. Not everything was lost. _And maybe, in front of an impartial instance…_ She ran down the stairs, only to bump into Ron and Harry who apparently had tried to get up to her dormitory, but had been defeated by the staircase. They held the same heavy letters as she did.

“I guess we’re going to London,” Ron said.

“Listen, Hermione, we’re really sorry…” Harry started and Hermione's pretence broke.

“Come here, you two.” And she threw her arms around them.

“But this is so strange”, she said, after they had discussed the matter. “Firstly, I get a letter from Hagrid and Malfoy sneering at me that Buckbeak has been convicted without another notice, and then this letter shows up.”

“You know what?” Ron said, eyes glinting. “I bet you Dumbledore stepped up to the court and said: ‘Listen up you old, doddery buggers, you are even older and more doddery than I am-'"

“Actually, that might be it”, Hermione said, excitedly. “Professor Sprout told me he was in London at the moment.”

“How do you know that?” Harry asked, opening a window to let Hedwig in. She hooted contentedly when he stroked her under the beak.

“Oh, uh, just ran into her,” Hermione said and blushed. She decidedly did not look at Fred sitting by the fireplace in an animated discussion with George and Lee Jordan.“Anyway, he must have convinced them to hold an appeal. Which they are legally obligated to do anyways, but-“

“But with Lucius Malfoy around they just forgot,” Ron said, bitterly.

||

Dumbledore did not come back the following evening. Professor McGonagall informed them at breakfast that he would be absent the entire week. “Of course, this means no slacking of the rules. I will see to it that the school will run as usual.”

She sat down again and gave no further explanation as to why Dumbledore was gone. Hermione let her glance slide along the table. Fred, sitting next to Angelina Johnson a few people down, was already looking at her.

“I’m finished with breakfast,” she declared and got up.

“But you barely touched your bacon.” Ron observed. “Are you alright?”

Hermione nodded. “You can have it”, she added with an eye roll.

Ron grinned and reached over the table for her plate. She slung her bag over her shoulder and walked up to Fred who was doodling onto Angelina’s arm with a battered looking quill. When he saw Hermione, he stuffed it into his cloak pocket.

“Need to go, see you, Angelina.”

“What do we do now?” Hermione hissed when they strolled down past the Ravenclaw table and out of the hall.

Fred shrugged his shoulder. “I wouldn’t want to tell another professor, if I’m honest.”

 “I agree.” Hermione nodded.

“I think we should wait, check up on him in the meantime.”

They walked up to the Charms corridor where Peeves was throwing spit balls at a group of first year Hufflepuffs.

“Stop it, Peeves,” Hermione said, half-heartedly, which naturally resulted in Peeves turning to spit them at her. Fred dodged one, picking it up and hitting Peeves in the bum with it.

George suddenly appeared from the other end of the hallway: “Hey Fred, you need to come. Lee just got a howler from that Ravenclaw girl that fancied him.”

“Oh boy.” Fred smirked. With a wink and a “later, Granger” he was gone.

||

Harry, Ron and Hermione went to visit Hagrid after divination. When he opened the door, they could immediately tell that Hagrid had not slept the last few nights. There were purple bags under his eyes and his fingers twitched nervously when he put the kettle on the table.

“Good to see you." Buckbeak in the corner screeched.

“We will convince the jury,” Harry said encouragingly. Hagrid sniffed and blew his nose.

“Buckbeak’s still got a chance, Hagrid,” Hermione said and shuffled through her bag to produce some notes. “I’ve written down everything I can remember about that lesson and how you instructed us. And I checked on the section on the responsibility regarding to magical beasts in the Wizarding Law and it says: ‘The Beast may be pardoned if it acts out of self-defence, influences of others or stimulators.’ We can argue that Buckbeak was acting out of Malfoy’s influence who egged him on, knowing that hippogriffs have a strong sense of pride.”

“Yeah, it was his own fault, Hagrid, and we’ll tell them.” Ron nodded. There was another knock on the door.

“Good evening, Hagrid,” Professor McGonagall said, rather softly.

“I gathered you three would be here.” She turned to Hermione, Ron and Harry. “I wanted to talk to you about the procedure on Wednesday. I understand you need to be there at eleven o’clock?”

Hagrid nodded, shakily. “I cannot floo there, Professor, the fireplaces are too small.”

“Then I suggest you take the Knight Bus on Tuesday evening. Spend the night at the Leaky Cauldron and return to Hogwarts after the appeal. Hagrid, I trust you to take full responsibility for your students and ensure they will be protected against whatever… difficulties arise.”

Hagrid nodded gravely. Hermione had to think of the conversation in the Three Broomsticks they had overheard and of Sirius Black currently digesting the sausages they had stolen from the kitchens.

“If everything is sorted, I will inform Mr. Malfoy of this.”

“Malfoy?” Harry asked.

“Of course, he will be called as a witness himself,” Professor McGonagall said, with an unreadable look in her eyes. “And I trust that you will treat each other with respect and dignity. It is possible for me to deduct house points, even when you are not at Hogwarts. Miss Granger, your detention will be moved to Friday, same time, same place.”

She nodded briskly at the four of them and vanished into the darkness again.

||

“Detention?” Ron still stared at her, open-mouthed. They were sitting in the Great Hall and helped themselves to some Shepherd’s Pie. “Come on, Hermione, why aren’t you telling us what you did?”

“She might have punched Malfoy straight in the face,” Fred said, with a sing song voice. “Or she might have wrestled the Giant Squid. What do you think, George?”

“I don’t know, I thought she told Snape he looked fat in those robes.”

They threw suggestions at each other like ping pong balls, each one wilder than the one before. When they suggested she had planned on building a Frankenstein Lockhart to spread fear and glossy hair among all students, Hermione nearly shouted: “I got it because I threw a dung bomb into Dungeon Number Five.”

Fred and George fell silent. Ron burst out, laughing. “Oh my god, Hermione.”

“I was- furious at Snape, because he only gave me an A in the essay on sleeping draughts.”

Ron shook his head in disbelief and Harry grinned.

“I’ll make a note to never cross you, Hermione.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey lovelies, 
> 
> thanks so much for waiting so long for the next chapter. Please leave a kudo or comment if you enjoyed it. 
> 
> All the best,   
> Lucy

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I would really appreciate it if you left a comment.
> 
> I want to give a special shoutout to my friend Isaac who encouraged me to finally post this. Thanks sweetie <3
> 
> Lots of love, 
> 
> Lucy


End file.
